


The Broken Man

by Doommonger22



Category: Spooks | MI-5
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-05
Updated: 2013-10-05
Packaged: 2017-12-28 13:11:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/992372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doommonger22/pseuds/Doommonger22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[First posted on FF.net] After losing everything, Harry Pearce is a broken man. But Dimitri hasn't given up on him just yet. Set after series 10, episode 6.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Broken Man

**Author's Note:**

> A scene I feel was missing after Ruth's death. Dimitri is, as ever, the voice of reason.

Harry didn’t really remember going back there. Then again, he didn’t remember picking up Sasha’s gun before he left the Grid, but it was clenched in his fist regardless. He didn’t remember much of the last few hours. The trip back to London had seemed so blurred and unreal. But even though he didn’t know how he had got there, he knew why he was there.

He felt it was right: it made sense in his own mind even if no-one else understood. This was where Ruth had fallen. This was where he should fall too. The great Harry Pearce – he laughed bitterly. He hadn’t been great enough to save Ruth. And it was about time that the world knew that he wasn’t some kind of superhero. He was just a man. Of course, he’d made sacrifices in his time, he’d made decisions that he knew in his heart were wrong, but this had been different. This hadn’t been his choice to make. Ruth had made it for him. And he hated himself for it. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get those fatal few seconds out of his head.

In hindsight, he wondered whether he should have been more forceful and insisted that Ruth should leave before Sasha attacked. Harry had known that Sasha wanted to kill him because, despite everything he kept telling himself, he’d known that Ilya would kill Elena. At the time he’d viewed it as an acceptable loss. Harry had been ready to die himself, by Sasha’s hand. After all, that was his job: to serve and, if necessary, die for his country. But Ruth had interfered. She’d taken the hit for him. And she’d paid for it with her life. On paper, she was just another casualty, a casualty that would have been Harry in any other circumstances. But in reality, Sasha Gavrik had achieved far more than he would have, had he killed Harry. Ruth’s death had broken Harry completely. And a broken man was no use to his country. He unclipped the pistol magazine and looked at the full complement of bullets. It was strangely reassuring to think he would only need one. He replaced the magazine and stood for a moment, looking at the weapon. He’d expected to die many times, but never like this, never because he was so utterly worthless. He tightened his grip on the gun. He should have done it years ago…

“Hey boss. What are you planning on doing with that gun?”

Harry started. He hadn’t heard anyone approaching, but when he turned he realised why. Dimitri Levendis was one of the best agents he had ever known. Right now, his presence was less than welcome.

“She’s gone, Dimitri. After everything that we’ve been through, she’s gone. And I can’t bring her back this time.” Dimitri remained silent, eyeing the gun. “I thought… I’d decided…” Harry paused and unscrambled his thoughts, before continuing. “When we’d seen this through, I was going to leave the service. I was going to leave with Ruth.”

“Her new house,” said Dimitri, understanding where his superior was going.

“Yes. Did you know I proposed to her once, Dimitri?” The field agent shook his head, he hadn’t known.

“It was at Ros Myers’ funeral; my timing always was terrible. But I promised myself that once I’d quit the service, I would ask her again. She said she couldn’t imagine herself living in her new house without me. I felt the same about her.”

There was a long pause. Dimitri had always been a man of action, standing on a deserted stretch of the coast talking to a man who obviously wanted to kill himself made him feel incredibly uncomfortable. Every muscle in his body was screaming at him to move, to snatch the gun and subdue Harry before he did something stupid. But he couldn’t risk it; he’d made a promise to Erin that he would get Harry back, alive. He intended to keep that promise.

Harry broke the silence.

“But now she’s gone. And you know the worst part of it, Dimitri?”

“No.”

“People like Ruth, _great_ people like Ruth, die every day and no-one cares. We save this country time and time again and no-one ever knows. No-one ever recognises us. They don’t thank us, or grieve for those that we’ve lost along the way. Who are we to them?”

 Dimitri noted the change in Harry’s voice. The calm exterior that he had become used to had faded and now he could hear every single painful, shuddering breath.

“To them we’re just nameless, faceless soldiers. Who cares if we die, who cares that Ruth died? This country can save itself,” he raised the gun to his head, “I’m finished with it.”

And in that instant, Dimitri felt anger that he had suppressed for so long bubble to the surface.

“But we care!” he yelled. “I care, you care, Erin cares, Calum cares – he might not show it but you know he does. Jesus Christ, even the Home Secretary cares. You’re right; we’re not nameless, faceless soldiers. We’re people, we have lives, we have families and we have every reason to do what we do. You’re right Harry, of course you are. No-one knows us, no-one thanks us, but that still doesn’t mean that we should give up. You more so than any of us.”

Harry looked up at him, and Dimitri recognised the look on his face. It was the look of a man who knows that he’s been defeated.

“Do you really believe that?”

“I do. Because I have to, if we don’t believe it then no-one else will.” There was a long pause. Harry didn’t believe what he was saying, Dimitri could tell. He needed to change tactics.

“I have three sisters, Harry. Three sisters and I hate their guts, every single one of them. But that doesn’t mean I think I should just give up and leave them at the mercy of whoever wants to blow them up next. So if you want acknowledgements, let’s start right now. I’ll say it because no-one else will. On behalf of me and Erin and Calum and Beth and the PM and Towers and Rosie and Calum’s brother-in-law and my three bitchy sisters: thank you!”

Harry smiled. Slightly.

“That would have made the difference, Dimitri. You have no idea how much of a difference that would have made, perhaps three hours ago. But now it’s too late. It is far too late. Don’t try and stop me.” Harry pressed the barrel against his head.

“I won’t,” said Dimitri evenly. “Because I don’t think you’ll do it. There’s one simple reason why you’ll see sense.”

“And what would that be?” Dimitri took a deep breath. He hadn’t wanted to resort to this, but Harry had left him with no choice.

“You owe it to Ruth to keep fighting. She’d be ashamed of you if she saw this, and she deserves more than that.”

It did the trick. Harry dropped to his knees and let the gun fall to the ground, eyes staring straight ahead. Dimitri picked up the gun wordlessly and pocketed it, just in case Harry decided to try again. Then, without hesitating, he turned to walk away, leaving Harry alone on that cliff top with his thoughts and memories.

“Dimitri!” He halted and turned back. Harry was looking at him. He looked just as broken as before, but there was something in his eyes, a fire that hadn’t been there earlier, which told Dimitri that Harry would be alright.

“Yes, boss?”

“I miss her, Dimitri.” Dimitri sighed.

“So do I boss, so do I.”


End file.
